


Light My Fire

by ruff_ethereal



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Body Image, Bullying, F/M, Gen, Implied Relationships, Mild Language, One-Sided Attraction, Past Relationship(s), Self Confidence Issues, Suggestive Themes, Weight Gain, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 07:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3927403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruff_ethereal/pseuds/ruff_ethereal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of how I fell in love with my friend Star, starting with my abuela Diaz's "Muy Bien Grande Tacos," and ballooning into something way bigger than that, in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strike The Match

**Author's Note:**

  * For [minaginawina](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=minaginawina).



> For the Anonymous that wanted a fic where Marco suddenly develops feelings for Star.
> 
> Also for minaginawina for inspiring all of this with their chubby Star pictures. (http://minaginawina.tumblr.com/post/118485623465/soo-about-this-chubby-star-idea-it-needs-to-be-a)

The guy or the girl gets into an accident and the other only realizes their feelings for them only as they're already at risk of shuffling off the mortal coil, or some sort of crappiness ruins their day but brings them closer together, or they have some sort of big celebration like a festival, a concert, or a birthday party when they finally realize the other person means so much more to them than they realized.

Most famous love stories start with this, some sort of big bang.

Maybe the guy (or girl) was always there to open the door for the girl (or guy), walk them to class every morning, and walk them back home every end of the day. Maybe they were there for them when they were suffering a crappy day brought upon by some tiny thing that meant the world to them. Maybe one day, as they were hanging out and doing their usual thing, something clicked, and they finally realized, they wanted to do this with them for the rest of their lives.

Other famous love stories start with these little incidents that are mostly meaningful and interesting to the couple only, and remembered because of what it all added up to.

Mine was a combination of both: little incidents that gradually built up to a big bang.

I could pin-point the exact moment when it started: when my _Abuela_ (“Grandmother') Diaz came to visit.

* * *

 

My family on my dad's side is not shy when it comes to our love of Mexican food. We love eating it, we love making it, and pretty much every Diaz has their own specialty—mine are my “Super Awesome Nachos,” which really _are_ super awesome, if I do say so myself.

My _abuela's_ specialty are her “Muy Bien Grande Tacos,” these monstrous tacos filled with pretty much every ingredient you usually put on a taco, only more so, and with a few secret ingredients. It was a beast to eat, it was messy, but it was delicious, some kind of tasty meaning to the madness that only my _abuela_ could understand.

(And before you complain about the name, it was made by a non-Spanish speaking friend with the help of a second-rate English-Spanish dictionary, and my _abuela_ kept the name for their sake.)

The rest of the family kept trying to make it themselves, but as a second inherited trait in our family, no one could ever recreate another member's specialties exactly as they did it, and the recipe died with them.

“It's called the Diaz Culinary Curse.” I told my friend Star after we ate the last of my abuela's tacos, and she had already left and couldn't make more.

“They could have written it down, they could get it published, they could have personally taught it step by painstaking step, but so long as it wasn't made by their hands, it just isn't the same.

“It's even worse if you're not a Diaz: at least most of our attempts come close, but not quite; other people's are really lacking at best, way off the mark, or even just something else entirely at worst.”

Most people would get discouraged at that, and just give up and resign themselves to enjoying as much of the dish as they could while the creator was still living.

Then again, most people were not Star, and if there was something she was, it was completely, absolutely determined and kind of stubborn.

“Well I'm going to try anyway!” Star said as she scooped up in her hands the last stray bits of meat, vegetables, and spices on her plate. “It's a crime that only two, maybe three generations get to enjoy tacos this good!” She punctuated her sentence by shoving all the crumbs and stray bits she'd gathered into her mouth, then moaning and shuddering in pleasure as she chewed.

Yes, it really _was_ that good.

I shrugged and got up to put away both of our plates, both completely, absolutely spotless to the last taco shell crumb. “Suit yourself, Star, but don't say I didn't warn you if they don't come out exactly like grandma's!”

Star laughed. “That's okay, Marco, because I plan to make even better tacos than her! Maybe call them Star's 'Muy Muy Bien Grande Tacos!'”

I decided not to comment. I was sure that in the short term, Star would find some new obsession to occupy her time, and in the long term, the plan would fade away from memory like so many other of Star's well-meaning but misguided projects.

I was wrong.

* * *

The next little incident was a trip to Quest Buy. After deciphering where the Kitchen, Grocery, and Culinary Arts departments were, Star proceeded to get a cart and bought almost everything they had for sale.

It got so bad that I had to get my own cart and let Star fill it with even more stuff.

“Are you sure you're going to need this much stuff?” I said as I pushed. “You're just starting out cooking, I think what we have in the kitchen back home is going to work just fine!”

Star waved me off as she used her wand to summon more critters to fly out and grab things for her, seemingly normal pots and pans made with exotic materials and kitchen equipment that looked, well, out-of-this-world.

“Trust me, Marco, I've seen what we've got there, and it just isn't enough for the kinds of meals I'm going to be cooking!” She said as the critters kept on dumping things into our carts. “As a matter of fact, I don't even think the kitchen can take the level heat I'm planning on turning everything up to!”

I decided to take Star on that later, and wondered how refunds or returns at Quest Buy worked. How we managed to pay off all of those is a story all on its own, which I won't get to, because it isn't this one.

After we managed to get all of Star's purchases back to the house, she went and used her wand to transform part of her room into a full-blown professional multidimensional cooking kitchen for one. I can't even remember the words she used, because I was too busy not getting brained, bashed, or stabbed by the flying pots, pans, and utensils, a lot of them with more sharp points, edges, or really heavy parts than I remembered at Quest Buy.

Finally, it less than three minutes, Star's personal kitchen was stocked, equipped, and ready for action.

After I got over the initial shine and almost painful sparkling of it all, I couldn't help but ask, “Are you really going to use _all_ of this?”

Star blew on her wand like it was a smoking gun and she was a cowgirl in the Wild West. “Yep! And if you'll excuse me, Marco, I've got to start breaking in my new kitchen, and finding my _groove_ as a chef! Star's 'Muy Muy Bien Grande Tacos,' here I come!”

Star magicked a chef hat with devil horns on top of her head, I decided now was a good time to leave the room before she turned on anything that might use gas or have moving parts, or needed to find something she'd left in some sort of obscure drawer.

_Boom!_

An explosion rocked the house just as soon as I closed the door after me.

“I'm okay!” Star cried immediately after, which was good because she was okay, bad because the incident hadn't stopped her, as evidenced by...

_Kaboom!_

… The second explosion that happened not five seconds after the first.

“I'm still okay!”

I frowned, shook my head, and went back into the safety of my room, keeping my phone and all the emergency numbers on speed-dial just in case. Normally, this would have been where I'd stay just outside of Star's room with a fire extinguisher in hand, but I had this feeling, what was going on inside that kitchen was going to be more trouble than I could handle.

It really was. But not in the way I expected.


	2. Ignite The Gas

Star failed to make her “Muy Muy Bien Grande Tacos” even close to my _abuela's_ “Muy Bueno Grande Tacos,” the Diaz Culinary Curse lived on, but it hardly mattered.

After about a week of explosions, failed attempts, and fumbling about trying to learn, we all discovered that Star really _c_ _an_ cook. Everyone loved her cooking, many folks were willing to pay for it, and even Ludo tried to steal some for himself before he finally caved in and bought some for himself like everyone else.

But by far the biggest fan of Star's food was herself.

She had a habit of tasting her creations while they were still cooking, sometimes to check if they tasted right, oftentimes to be a little less hungry because the smell alone was driving her mad.

Every new creation had to be thoroughly taste tested by her, numerous times, both at almost professional levels with exotic palate cleansers, to just plain pigging out and seeing if she enjoyed both styles.

And Star always, always made extra whenever she was filling up an order, because she knew she just couldn't resist taking some for herself. And with the money she was pulling in, it only ensured that she was going to be able to buy ingredients, replacement equipment, and experiment for a good long time yet.

At first Star did a little bit of everything, before she started specializing in three areas.

The first was fried foods. Mexican, Southern Country, or just good old “stick it in the deep fryer and see if it tastes much better,” Star was not afraid and proud of her ability to fry and deep fry pretty much anything and everything.

This was one of the contributors to her problems, but not by much. Since Star kept on kicking monster butt and going on wild trans-dimensional adventures that involved a lot of running, fighting, and generally being her, the new addition to her diet barely made a dent on her.

And though fatty foods are still bad for your health in general, Mewni or Earth native, they're really not as bad as carbohydrates and sugars.

Then, she moved onto desserts—namely, brownies, ice cream, and cakes—and things _really_ got crazy.

If there's anything desserts are known for, it's being sweet. And Star's liked hers _really_ sweet. Like so sweet you could feel your teeth start to rot as soon as you even held it close to your mouth, there was that much sugar in it.

Her usual adventuring, fighting, and just being her couldn't keep up. Star started gaining weight—more than a few inches around certain parts of her, clothes being a little bit tighter than she remembered them being, parts of her that started moving in their own directions, if only slightly.

It wasn't cause for alarm just yet. Everybody gained a little weight sometimes, it was normal. And with Star dedicating some of her time to more dedicated exercising, she'd quickly shave off most of the extra inches and be back to normal soon enough.

And then she had the bright idea of combining fried foods and dessert as her third specialty, and all stops were pulled.

How bad was it? It's easier if I just describe to you Star's signature dish.

It would have been a generous sampler platter, if it was three-quarters its present size. As it was, it was a dish best shared by two people, if only because it'd keep both of you from getting heart attacks at best, one of you would be able to call 911 on average, and you wouldn't die alone at worst.

Fried ice cream, deep fried brownies. Sweet potato chips drowning in melted ice cream and syrup sauce. Cake bits with crunchy deep fried pepper inside for that extra bit of spice and savoury to your sweetness.

These are but a few things that make it. There's a lot more to it, but it's such a jumbled mess when you first see it, and even more chaotic once you actually start eating it, only Star knows what goes into it—and even then, I think she only has a vague idea of that.

It's insane. It's sweet, it's spicy, it's savoury, it's bitter, it's sour, it's salty—it's all sorts of flavours, all at once, all combining into an indescribable medley of taste-bud nirvana. It's a bad, bad, _bad_ idea, but if you live through it, it will be one of the best, most fun things you've ever eaten.

If there was any dish in the whole mulitverse that was distinctly, absolutely, unmistakably Star Butterfly it was her “Cosmotronic Cornucopia.”

I already felt myself getting sick just looking at it for the first time, as if my brain and my stomach had recognized the danger it posed, and did everything in both their powers to keep me from eating it.

Star, on the other hand, just couldn't wait to dig in.

“Are you seriously going to eat all of that?!” I said, wondering if my phone still had enough charge to make an emergency 911 call.

“Uh, yeah?” Star said as she started picking up one of the nachos and swirling it in even more sweet sauce. “Why do you think I made it? Just to show you?” She popped the chip into her mouth, started eating, and immediately tuned out everything else.

I stayed behind to call an ambulance for when she got sick. I watched her slowly devour it, bit by bit. And as Star licked her plate clean, I realized I needn't have worried.

Yet.

“I can't believe you just ate all of that.” I said as I still held my phone, a press away from calling 911.

Star laughed and leaned back in her seat. “I can't believe you didn't want any of it!”

I looked down at her bulging stomach, then back up at her face. “Are you sure you should have just done that?”

Star narrowed her eyes at me. “Marco Diaz, if you're implying that I might get fat from this, I'll have you know that I've easily burned off all the weight I've gained from my cooking, and I will keep on burning them!”

I just nodded and left her to relax in her post-meal afterglow. With women, it was never a good idea to bring up their weight, most especially if you were a guy.

* * *

Several weeks later, we found out how wrong she was.

It happened one morning, while we were getting ready for school. Star was taking an unusually long time getting dressed up and downstairs for breakfast, so I decided to investigate.

I knocked on her bedroom door. “Star? You okay…?”

Star forgot to close it properly and the door just swung open. She was far, far too busy to even notice.

Inside, Star struggled with putting on her favourite blue dress. “Come on, come on, I know I still fit in this...” She mumbled, the rest of her words came out as strained grunting or grumbling too soft for me to hear.

However, I did see—in full detail—Star's dress caught tightly around her chest and stuck around her hips, leaving most of her lower body uncovered. Since she was turning away from me, I saw a _lot_ of things.

Now, I consider myself a gentleman, and personally, I don't believe in the “I'm still a guy!” excuse, because being a pervert and ogling girls is a natural response, yeah, but it's a natural response you can curb and control with a little thing called "discipline."

… However, I am also human, and I subscribe to the belief that it's perfectly okay to screw up a certain amount of times, depending on the severity of your mistakes, if only for the sake of your sanity and well-being.

I only caught a glimpse of it, I swear. But that little glimpse is forever burned into my mind in high definition, and for the rest of my life, I will always know what underwear Star wore that day.

For her sake, I'm not going to go into all of the details. Besides, I uh, don't feel comfortable myself sharing exactly what I saw. Mostly because I wasn't supposed to see it in the first place.

I quickly shut the door and stepped well-away from Star's bedroom. She never did find out, because just before the door closed--

 _Schrip_.

\--Her dress ripped.

Five minutes later, Star rushed down the stairs dressed in her oversized sweater, and a pair of yoga pants along with her usual boots and headband. Back when she bought it, the sweater pretty much dwarfed the rest of her body, and the pants were pretty loose but still comfortable.

Now, the sweater was just a few sizes away from being a snug fit, and the pants were a good fit.

Too good a fit.

I said absolutely nothing that entire morning as we made our way to school. It was obvious that finding out that she didn't fit in her favourite dress by accidentally destroying it was weighing heavily on her.

But as the day progressed, it got harder and harder until I just couldn't keep quiet anymore.


	3. Fan The Flames

Of course I knew Star was attractive—who wouldn't? But it was like how a straight guy would know that a male movie star was handsome, without being interested in them romantically.

That was how I always thought of Star--up until today, at least.

And apparently, so did the rest of Echo Creek.

Star got looks on the street, she got double-takes on the bus, she got people stopping dead in their tracks to stare.

Star spent most of the day blushing and with her head down, trying to get through class as quickly as possible, as quietly as possible, and running into as few people as possible.

I spent the morning with her, helping ferry her to classes, not saying a single word about anything. I knew that Star _really_ didn't want me to actually answer whenever she asked, “Everybody's staring at me, aren't they?”

It probably had a lot to do with _how_ she gained weight. Star was one of those lucky people whose fat deposits were pretty evenly distributed in all the right places—around her chest, around her hips, and especially in both her feminine assets, if you catch my drift.

She wasn't the extremely rare super model's definition of “curves,” where she had wide hips, large breasts, and an hourglass waist. Star was a lot softer, friendlier, and—I'll say it!--jigglier.

Fortunately for Star, all the conversation in the halls and classes were too quiet for her to hear, or only done once she was well out of earshot. Most of Echo Creek High was generally polite and good mannered.

“Hey, I guess we should start calling you Star _Butter_ fly! You know, _Butter_ fly, because butter, like, makes you fat and stuff?”

… One very obvious exception to that being Lars, the school bully.

No one laughed at his joke but him. And terrible as it was, with the added awfulness that Star's name really _was_ Butterfly even before today, it still hurt Star badly.

She looked down, sniffed, and you could already see the tears welling up in her eyes.

I put a hand on her shoulder and was about to take on Lars, before Jackie beat me to it.

“Hey! Leave her alone!”

Lars stopped laughing and watched as Jackie got up from her usual table, stormed right up to Star's other side, and put her hand on her shoulder, too.

Normally, this would have been when I'd melt into a big old puddle of lovestruck goo and uselessness, but my desire to protect Star from the likes of Lars outweighed my _huge_ crush on Jackie.

Lars looked at me, then at Jackie. You could hear the gears in his head slowly, painfully churning as he frowned, angrily grumbled something under his breath, then turned tail and stalked off as quickly as he could without losing face.

In spite of his severe lack of intelligence and violent tendencies, Lars still had enough brain cells to realize when he was outmatched both socially and physically.

Though I lost the Monster Arm months ago, that kind of butt-kicking tends to stick with a guy for life; and Lars wasn't too keen on finding out if I could still do it even without a sentient demonic tentacle for a limb.

Jackie turned to Star, worry all over her face. “You okay Star?”

Star smiled at her, sniffed, and nodded. “Yeah, I'm fine; thanks for the save.” She wiped the tears out of her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater.

Jackie leaned in closer. “You sure?” She reached over to wiped away some of the tears Star missed.

That little gesture bothered me a _lot_. I'd realize why later.

Star nodded again, blinking away the rest of her tears till her eyes were bright and shiny once more. “Uh huh! Sticks and stones, you know?

Jackie finally smiled back. “People who make fun of women are jerkbags…” She turned to the retreating Lars and scowled. “Not everyone is into models trying to squeeze their DD's into their size 5 dresses, you know!” She yelled.

“Amen to that, sister!” Star said. “Thanks again for the save...”

“No problem; us girls gotta stick together, watch out for each other, especially when we're a little more woman than most.” Jackie eyed Star up and down, a little too slow to be a quick check, but not too slow that it'd be creepy.

Like she was checking her out.

“Besides, you look good, Star.” Jackie paused. “Like really, _really_ good.”

Star blushed.

That _really_ bothered me. Rage started building up inside of me, and I tried to keep it under control and under wraps as best as I could.

It's one of the key beliefs and principles of Karate, after all: let go of unnecessary anger and other negative emotions, achieve inner peace, and where appropriate, channel all your energies into precise and devastating strikes.

With Jackie, it was usually extremely easy, because I'd turn into a complete goofball around her, and when your brain refuses to think of anything else other than “Man, she's hot, don't screw up, don't say something stupid.” over and over again, it's really, _really_ difficult to get angry.

But this time, it wasn't.

“Hey, Marco, you okay?” Star asked.

I realized my face was burning red, and my hands were clenched into fists. I immediately dropped my shoulders and released my fingers; it took a while still for my breathing, my heart rate, and the throbbing in my palms to go down.

“Yeah, I'm cool,” I lied. “Just… Lars got me really steamed back there.”

“Best if you just learn to ignore people like him.” Jackie said. “They only ever matter if you let them get to you, and in the long run, they really don't matter at all.”

Jackie thumbed back to the table her friends sat at. “I gotta go. You going to be okay, Star?”

I looked over to them, talking amongst themselves, occasionally casting glances at us from time to time. The way they did it like Star was just a minor inconvenience, something they expected Jackie to just blow over in less than a minute, as if this weren't important…

It almost got me angry again. Good thing I was already focusing on my breathing exercises.

At the time, I thought I was jealous of Star getting Jackie's attention like that.

It was only later that I realized it was the other way around.


	4. Watch It Burn

Gym class rolled around, everyone shipped off to the basketball court, and everything got worse.

Star had to ditch her sweater and her yoga pants for a shirt that was now too tight and a little too small, and shorts that didn't cover up as much as she would like.

I tried not to stare and focus on passing that day's round of gym class.

Most of the class did the exact opposite of that, and that day would later go down as one for some of the worst set of scores across the board... though everyone tended to remember it for a much more memorable incident.

The coach was just about to blow their whistle again when the skies started rumbling and turning black.

Something foul ripped a massive tear in our reality. Fire, brimstone, and the wails of the damned filled the air, everyone getting an earful about unpaid overtime, low wages, and no work benefits. Soon afterward, a flaming chariot of pure black obsidian accented with molten hot magma came roaring out of the breach, its V10 engine spewing massive gouts of hellfire, brimstone, and pure black exhaust.

Who else was at it's helm but Tom, Star's Demon Ex-Boyfriend.

 _“STAR!”_ His voice boomed, him using his Demon (Prom) King Echo to make himself sound more intimidating—or more accurately, more annoying. _“I COME BACK, WITH FLOWERS AND--”_

Tom stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw Star.

Star only kept on glaring at him, that expression on her face the usual mix of anger and annoyance that let everyone know she and Tom were well and truly done.

(Well, everyone but Tom, at least.)

Tom grinned drove his chariot lower down to earth. The students immediately made way, giving him a spacious landing strip with Star and myself in the center of it. The demonic hot rod's exhausts kept on roaring, leaving a thick trail of pure black smoke as it drove down and skull shapes floating up into the air.

And this wasn't even getting into the flaming skid marks his wheels left, hot enough to melt the blacktop, and the 100% diamond rims on the wheels.

Tom left his ride running and idly sputtering flames and belching smoke as he stepped off. He walked up to Star and chuckled.

“Wow. And here I thought you couldn't get any hotter, Star...”

I went into combat ready position, already scowling and focusing my Chi to woop Tom's ass.

Star just crossed her arms. It had the effect of raising her already tight shirt even higher, revealing more of her midriff.

Tom looked down and grinned even wider. That he made absolutely no effort to hide it—probably even made sure that everyone was aware of it—gave me more rage to focus and hit him with.

“What do you want, Tom?” Star asked.

It was a song and dance we did almost every single time he made an entrance like this. And just like every other time, I found entirely new depths of intense hatred for Tom with each passing second.

Tom smiled and reached out for Star's hand. “What else, Star? I want _you.”_

Star slapped it away. “No. Tom, we are officially over, we are done, I've broken up with you.”

Tom looked legitimately hurt as he cradled his hand. “You'll _always_ be my Queen to me, Star.”

“And you're _always_ going to be my ex-boyfriend, Tom.”

I relaxed my stance a little for the next part. Star and me had a bet about it.

“Even if I let you ride in my chariot again? I just tuned up the engine; now it goes even _faster_ than godspeed if I gun it.” Tom grinned.

I silently noted that neither of us had won this time.

“Really?” Star smiled sarcastically. “That's great! Now you can get back on that deathtrap of yours, and _get out of here even faster!”_

You could literally see the steam coming out of Tom's ears.

“Star, please, just give me another chance.”

“I gave you way more second chances than I should have, Tom!”

“Not even for old time's sake...?”

“After what happened at the end? Yeah, _no._ ”

Tom scowled. The steam turned into smoke. He took a breath as he got ready to use his Demon (Prom) King voice again.

_“STAR BUTTERFLY--”_

“Blueberry pie-hole shove!”

Tom immediately found his mouth completely filled with sticky and gooey blueberry pie, making it impossible to speak coherently. Fire figuratively and literally burned in his eyes and the rest of him as he mumbled angrily.

Even if it came as “Mffmuns, athoock!”, Tom's lackey's knew when they were needed and quickly poured out of the breach. Tom himself stormed back to his chariot, driving it back up into the sky while he figured out how to get rid of all the blueberry pie in his mouth.

If you've never fought demons, here's how it generally goes: the highest ranking demon sits back on their throne, chariot, or elevated vantage point, and watches as their minions take on their enemies for them.

The good news thing about this was that a demon's minions were weak and easily dispatched.

The bad news about this was that all of them expected to die at any moment by being soundly beaten, accidentally taken out by their larger companions, or just smothered by their sheer numbers, so they tended to be reckless, and incredibly dangerous.

When you have no need for a sense of self-preservation, it was really a question of what _wouldn't_ you use to win a fight?

Fortunately, Star and I were pretty used to fighting all sorts of baddies, with or without her wand, so really, it wasn't a question of _if_ we would win, but how long would it take, and how many minions would we need to beat up to get there.

Star's new weight proved to be an advantage in the fight, too! Still capable of moving as fast and as agile as she did before, all that extra size helped make some of her moves hit even harder. I'd never seen a minion fly off from a hip check until that day.

It was all going well until Tom tried to get his minions to attack the students on the sidelines, who were alternately cowering in fear and cheering for the both of us.

Star and I dashed between the demonic hordes and our classmates. She spread her legs out as she raised her wand high up into the air, and started casting a spell.

_Schrip._

The back of Star's shorts tore straight down the middle.

Everyone stared. I stopped mid-crouch. Even Tom and the other demons were stunned.

I don't remember what it was exactly that Star cast, but I do know was that it completely destroyed Tom and his minions, sent them all back to their dimension, and left the whole quadrangle smelling like burnt sugar.

Celebrating our victory would have to wait, though. Mostly because some time between the spell and the demons, Star had disappeared.

I had a good idea where she was, and for one of the few times in my life, I ditched class and ran home as fast as I could.

* * *

Star sat on her bed, now wearing the sweater and the yoga pants once more. Tears streamed down her eyes as she shoveled giant scoops of her homemade chocolate ice cream into her mouth.

I stood in the doorway, still holding onto the door after I'd pulled it open, unsure of what to do.

“You saw, didn't you?” Star blubbered as she dug into the bucket between her legs for another scoop.

I paused, and thought of what I could do. I let go of the door, stepped in, and grabbed my arm, willing my mouth to say miraculously, reflexively say something that'd make everything all better.

“ _You did!”_ Star shoveled more chocolate ice cream in her mouth, fresh tears poured down from her eyes. Spoon still in her mouth, she mumbled, _“Everyone_ did...”

I closed the door. I didn't say anything as I walked up to her; just sat down beside her, and looped my arm around her shoulders.

Star pulled the spoon out of her mouth, laid her head on my chest, and started eating and sobbing at the same time.

I patted her on the shoulder. I kept on being quiet, as I was pretty sure “There, there...” was just going to make things worse.

Star swallowed her latest mouthful of ice cream. “They're all going to make fun of me for forever now, aren't they…?” She whimpered.

I frowned and looked away uneasily. A mooning like that was not likely to escape anyone's lips, and would stay there for a good long time.

Still, telling the truth was only going to make things worse, so I opted for lying.

“No they're not.”

“ _Yes they will!_ Ugh, I hate those stupid shorts!” Star pulled away and jabbed her spoon into the bucket. “I hate Tom picking today of all days to try and hook up with me again! I hate my--”

The rage I'd been trying to suppress all day finally burst.

I squeezed Star's shoulder, cupped her chin, and turned her face to mine.

 **“No.”** I narrowed my eyes at her. “Don't say it. You don't mean it. It's not true.”

Star sniffed, and whimpered. “Look at me, Marco!” She gestured to herself. “I'm… I'm… I'm…!”

“You're beautiful, that's what you are!”

I didn't realize I said it until Star blinked at me, her face going from despair to pure confusion.

“… I'm what…?”

My mouth was running on automatic now; there was nothing I could do to stop it. Whatever was going to happen now, my fate was sealed.

“You're beautiful. Always have been, but now… a lot more, actually!”

Star frowned and whined. “You're lying.”

“No!” I shook my head. “I'm not! Honestly, Star, you're so unbelievably hot right I'm _still_ having trouble dealing with it!”

My face burned red immediately after that. I tried to look away from Star, save myself from the embarrassment of seeing her reaction, but her eyes kept me locked in place.

I watched her face. Saw it change, slowly, but surely. She sniffed, and wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve. She blinked away the tears, till her eyes were bright and shiny again, if puffy and red, too.

Then, her frown slowly turned up into a smile.

Star buried her face into my chest as she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into the tightest hug she'd ever given me.

She was soft. Really soft. And warm. The hug felt a lot better than all of the other ones did, and I knew it wasn't just because I cheered her up.

Star pulled away from and looked up at me, smiling and looking happier than I've ever seen her in my entire life.

It would have been a great opportunity to kiss her.

Shame I didn't take it.


	5. Stoke the Coals

Star never really did return to her old weight, and her current size became her new normal.

She didn't mind, and neither did anyone else, really.

That's not to say she just let herself go, oh no.

Star started exercising more. The Cosmotronic Cornucopias were now reserved only for special occasions, or a month apart from the last one, whichever came first. And she made especially sure that mom wouldn't need to help her buy an entirely new wardrobe for her any time soon.

Echo Creek quickly adapted to Star's new look. Her accidentally mooning our entire gym class went down in school legend, obviously, but Star didn't mind, especially when she learned that people weren't making fun of her, they were wishing they had gotten a better look, or gloating that they had.

Eventually, Star stopped lowering her head as she walked down the halls, back to her usual bouncy, happy, confident self—though admittedly, with a _lot_ more bounce now.

Everyone for the most part remained the same, except for those that found they _really_ liked Star's new look—especially after she started wearing dresses again, some of them sleeveless and the skirts cut just a _little_ bit too short.

It got _really_ hard for me to hide the fact that I was attracted to her, but Star didn't mind one bit. I think she rather liked all the attention, but never really thought that it'd go past that—just attraction. I was still her best friend first and foremost, of course! Nothing was going to change that!

Though some days, I wish something would. Ideally, me.

Lars never made fun of her weight ever again. Jackie immediately giving him a glare whenever he was even within the general area of Star made sure of that.

And speaking of Jackie, she eventually asked Star out to the mall to go shop for new clothes, before she started hanging out with her regularly.

I didn't think anything of it at the time, until much later, when I realized it had started an entirely different problem.

But, that's a different story--and more importantly, it's not mine.


End file.
